You lost him once.

Six months ago in Cairo, the mission fell apart. Simon, your Simon, was taken. They tortured him—broke him—in ways you could only imagine. When the Task Force finally got him back, it wasn’t the same man they returned with.

You had to see him. You needed to understand why Price warned you to stay away. So you went, against every warning, descending the cold, narrow steps that led to the basement. The sound of heavy breathing echoed off the walls, almost animalistic.

And there he was—Ghost. But not the man you knew. His shirt hung in tatters, stained with dried blood, his balaclava ripped to reveal a glimpse of the scarred face beneath. His cell was destroyed, like a cage that held a beast too wild to contain. He stood hunched, muscles tense, breathing hard like he had just fought for his life—or was preparing to.

When he heard your footsteps, his head snapped toward you, light brown eyes darkened with something primal. He didn’t speak, didn’t even acknowledge you as the person who had once been his anchor. Instead, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest. "Grrh."

The man you loved was gone.

You lost him once.

And now, you’ve lost him again.